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[thehonestmommy]

My Birth Story (Baby #2) - Part 1

2020 brought and withheld a lot of things for everyone across the globe. But for us, quarantined to our home, it brought new life. And as the year winds down, I’m ready to reflect upon the biggest event of the year, Welcoming Galen Angus O’Neill to the world. 

On the morning of September 3rd, I was 4 days overdue and feeing impatient for the arrival of our new baby. I woke around 4 am, and could feel some gentle cramps in my belly. This was not new. Throughout the pregnancy I was fooled over and over again by prodromal labour which I had been enduring for months. I even experienced gallstones during the beginning of my 2nd trimester, so I was no stranger to pains and pangs that lead nowhere. 

I did my best to get back to sleep but to no avail. I laid awake and tried not to pay attention to the feelings. Unable to get back to sleep, I listened to some hypnobirthing meditations for about an hour and a half (which I did often in the early mornings/late nights) and although I didn’t sleep again, I rested and relaxed and practiced my mindful isometric breathing.

At about 5:30 I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the real deal. The pains were not different, but my instinct told me this was it. The slow start to the big show. I shook Ryan awake and said “I think this is it!” to witch he responded “oh..yeah? okay” dismissing what he thought was another false alarm.  But I didn’t feel any doubt this time.

He got up and got ready for work, and reminded me to call him if things get real and he will come home. Our morning went on as usual.

I got up, got myself and my son Lauchlan dressed and took him to daycare. Admittedly, I don’t remember doing this, perhaps because I was distracted, or maybe because I didnt yet realize what was happening during an otherwise normal and mundane morning routine. Whatever the case, I dont remember taking him there….but he spent the day at daycare.

When I returned home I attempted to sleep but again wasn’t able to. Excitement was keeping me awake and alert. I knew rest of any kind was important, made myself breakfast and lounged in bed with the dog (who stayed close with me), while I watched a few movies. A completely chill morning,  but as the morning went on, my cramps were becoming regular, and more noticeable. I began timing them, and although the timing was a little off, I knew this was it. It’s go time!

At 9:00 I texted Ryan:

“Umm….Soon. Contractions are closer together now, about 6-8 mins apart but they are short, only 30 seconds and I can still talk and walk through them.”

He decided to come home as soon as he could, with a brief stop to get get me some gatorade and grapes (both staples in my last birth). 

At 9:30 I texted my Doula to let her know I was quite certain I was in early labour. Of all my birth team, I wanted to call upon her first since she would come to help keep me comfortable if I requested it no mater what stage of labour I was in (Midwives typically wait till signs of active labour). I knew I didn’t need her quite yet so she asked me to keep her posted in case the intensity picks up. 

At 10:30, I paged my midwife: 

Good morning!

I m officially in (at least early) labour. I ve been having surges since 4:15am, and they are getting more intense but are a bit irregular. Most are 40 seconds to a minute long, but are anywhere from 5-9 minutes apart. It’s getting close! (My water did not break and I have no blood or mucus show)

My midwife had a team meeting at noon, so said she could be there by 1pm. That sounded perfect to me, so I laid back down, snacked, sipped water and watched some of my favourite funny moves to help keep my mind distracted; Anchorman (twice!) Step Brothers and Talledaga Nights. (Special shoutout to Will Farrell and John C. Reilly for attending my birth as humour doulas. You boys keep it real)  In the meantime I chatted with my bestie Andrea who agreed to come over and take some photos. Her plan was to come by at 2pm.  Intermittently I listened to some of my hypnobirthing tracks and walked around the house to help gauge how I was feeling. I was still doing okay. 100% comfortable between surges, and still able to talk during them. I used my home-made mala during my surges to remind myself to breathe and relax my face and shoulders (where I hold most of my tension).

Ryan arrived home and got me some grapes and water, making sure I ate and stayed hydrated. He laid next to me and held my hand while the surges came, and reminded me how strong I am, and that we were soon going to meet our newest baby! I was glad to have him at my side, keeping me calm, comfortable, focused, fed and hydrated.

Andrea arrived shortly after and began photographing the goings-on as I laboured in my room. She kept me company and sat on the bed and observed what my contractions looked like while I was cuddled in my bed in my nest of pillows. I was at this time, doing my best to stop talking, turn inward, and breathe slowly as deeply while in a surge, as they were becoming longer and stronger. They would come mid-conversation with Andrea, and I would pause, breathe, and then continue the conversation. I knew trying to talk through them was still possible, but wouldn’t be as beneficial as breathing. 

Soon, My Midwife arrived and confirmed I was absolutely in early labour.  At 2:15 I consented to a cervical check. I was 4cm and 50% effaced, my heart rate and blood pressure were normal, and fetal movement was normal. All green checkmarks. I felt very positive about my progress, and confident that things were progressing well and safely.

As my surges continued to gain strength, I began moving around. Laying in bed was just not feeling right any longer. I followed my instincts and shifted from the bed to the floor. My midwifes assistant offered to squeeze my hips during surges to help relieve them, and it was helping so much. During a surge I leaned on her, I leaned on Ryan, and relaxed on a yoga ball in between. No position was better than the other but changing it up helped keep it fresh. 

Sadly, around this time I heard from my Doula that she was not able to make it. She was attending another birth that was not going well and that mom needed extra support.  I felt like things were going very smoothly for us, so although I was let down, it didn’t send me into a panic. Thankfully she had a backup that was available to attend. Id never met her before, but if my doula recommended her, then I trust that she’s excellent! So she was dispatched to our house.

at 4pm I VERY suddenly began to feel nauseous. Last time that meant I was in transition and the baby was about to come, but i was sure that couldn’t be happening already. My midwife took it as a cue, and offered another cervical check which I would have declined if it weren’t for the nausea. I wanted to know so I consented and found that I was 6cm and 100% effaced.  It was time to get in the birth pool! Ryan realized time was getting close so he stepped out to pick up Lauchlan from Daycare. 

We made our way downstairs and my secondary doula Victoria arrived and introduced herself. She helped me into the pool at 4:30. The water was hot hot hot and so relaxing! I could do nothing but smile as I eased into the water. I could feel all my muscles let go, and like magic my labour picked up. In the first few moments in the pool, observed my surroundings and was filled with an overwhelming joy. I was surrounding by a caring team; my midwives and doula, one of my best friends and my husband and son (who were still on their way back from daycare), safely in my home and during a pandemic no less, when I would otherwise be birthing alone in a hospital. I was so thankful to be experiencing a smooth birth, in the comfort of my own home. The oxytocin wave washed over me, I very soon needed breathing coaching during my surges. They were becoming powerful enough that I needed to make a low guttural hum to stop myself from gasping. I was entering into the primal stage of birth.

Ryan arrived back home with Lauchlan. I wondered what his response would be like, but he was completely adorable and kept me smiling. He didn’t seem phased at all by what was going on. In fact, he was a sweet help; he fed me water and grapes, and gave me kisses over the side of the pool. He was not too pleased however, that he was not allowed to get in it the birth pool with me, but it didn’t stop him from sticking around for the whole show in innocent presence. 

At 5:00 I felt like I needed to pee. Of course, I was in the birth pool. My birth team suggested that if i wanted to stay in the pool I could just pee in there since urine is sterile, but I was 100% not into that! Lord knows how much longer I would be in that water, and the thought just grossed me out. So they helped me out of the tub and I waddled my way through my living room towards the bathroom. I noted to myself how thankful I was that I collected about 20 old towels as I tracked water through my living room (this, by the way, was the only ‘mess’ from the whole birth!) Right at the bathroom door another surge hit and it nearly knocked me off my feet. Thankfully Ryan was there to support me. As soon as it ended, it was like it never happened and I took a moment in the washroom and then quickly went back to the pool. 

Once I was back in the pool, I felt incredibly hot and nauseous. Thankfully I did not throw up (I am emetophobic) but this time I knew that wave of nausea meant I was in transition. My surges were less than a minute apart. I complained of the water being too hot a few times, and we realized it actually was! Ryan began adding cold water to the tub and a cold cloth to my head, neck and back to help cool me down. Things picked up. Ryan started my birth playlist and I found focus again with the music. My doula coached me through the surges and told me I should stop doing the low guttural sounds because I was going to risk losing my voice. She said yell if I need to! It’s time to get primal! During my surges I leaned my forearms and shoulders on the edge of the pool and grasped her index fingers like handle bars.  I felt like I couldn’t go on, like I would perish if I had to endure any more…. And I knew this meant a miracle was about to happen. I knew I could do it and could keep going, bit the feeling of it becoming too much was so strong. I tried to not say it but the words slipped out “I can’t, I can’t do this” and everyone…Ryan my midwives, my doula, my best friend all let out a chorus of “Yes you can. You already are!”  I nodded and kept on.

My next surge at approximately 5:30 my water broke (in the pool). The pressure of it breaking was so strong that It felt like a gunshot in the water. It was so strong that I actually thought for a minute that it was the baby! I was so glad it happened, because I knew it meant the baby was very close. Vitals showed we were both doing well, but there was one issue: meconium in the water. When the water broke, meconium came with it which can be a danger to the baby’s breathing.  My midwife leaned in close and looked me in the eye and said “Sarah, there’s meconium in the water. If you want to have this baby at home, we have to do it now. It’s time to push.”

Pushing was not part of my birth plan. I wanted to let the FER (fetal ejection reflex) take over. But hearing that my home birth was at risk of coming to an end and transferring to a hospital pushed me into a new zone of strength. With the next surge, I pushed as hard as I could. And when it was finished I knew I could do better. The following surge I pushed harder and longer and it brought the babies head down. But something felt wrong… I felt like I was being ripped in half and my hips were being violently pulled apart.  At that moment I flashed back to Lauchlans birth, and how pushing felt so relieving, and I never once felt like it was ‘too much.’ This was different… Like he was coming out sideways. But before my midwife could even check to see what was happening, another surge came and I gave every inch of my life in that final push, and the baby arrived! 5:43 pm September 3rd, 2020. Our quarantine baby, born at home. 

I reached down and lifted my baby out of the water and held my wiggling squishy new baby to my chest. The baby was warm and soft and so alert. The midwives immediately began attending to the baby to make sure all was well, and it was. I leaned the baby back on my forearms and gazed at this beautiful creature.  I observed the baby head to toe, and was taken with how beautiful this child was. And this time (unlike last time) I remembered to check and see what gender we had. It was a boy! I announced it to the room with a slightly disheartened tone because I was SURE it was going to be a girl. I was shocked that my intuition mislead me so much, but I chuckled thinking that ‘Sarah and the boys’ has always been my way of life. Being a boy-mom is my calling. 

I leaned back in the pool and snuggled my new bundle of joy. I spoke gently to him, “hello baby, welcome to the world! I love you already” Ryan asked me “What is his name?” “I’m not sure” I said. We hadn’t decided which of our chosen boy’s names to use. “Alec, or Galen?” I asked “I’m completely okay with both.” “Galen” Ryan said. “Galen Angus O’Neill.”

After some bonding time in the pool, the midwives cut his cord and handed Galen to Ryan for some skin-to-skin snuggles. They helped me out of the water and on to the couch where my vitals were taken and my midwives reminded me that we needed to deliver the placenta (oh, right! it’s not over!)  I relaxed and observed Ryan with our second son in his arms for the first time. He snuggled him and remarked that his mouth was open and looking for food! Once the placenta was delivered and I was stitched from a very mild 1st degree tear, he placed our boy back on my chest where he latched and nursed without any struggle at all. It was perfect. He was perfect. 

After some time with me, he was laid on some blankets on our coffee table and his APGAR test began. Amusing to likely only us, Ryan asked “does he have a bum hole?” and thankfully he did, and pooped right away to prove it!  He passed everything on the test… a healthy boy! We were ultimately blessed. 

We each made guesses at his weight and were shocked to find he was a whopping 9 pounds! Much bigger than I expected!

The rest of my evening was mostly a blur of happy comments and realizing how short my active labour had been… just 1.5 hours! Incredible! the entire labour was about 13.5 hours, roughly the same as my previous labour with Lauchlan (but the active stage was WAY faster with Galen!)

My doula had fed me toasted english muffins and gatorade while I lounged with the baby. Shortly after she helped me upstairs to shower, and tucked me in bed with the baby. I remarked again how incredible home birthing can be, and how lucky I was to do it.

Andrea’s husband Nate came to pick her up and popped in to say hello and congratulations, and brought me a hamburger which I straight up devoured! The midwives took care of cleaning up and put our linens in the laundry while Ryan emptied the pool. Our house swiftly went back to normal and it was as if nothing happened. The only evidence was the new life in my arms.  So strange that the miracle of life had happened in my living room just hours before. 

Even though I would consider this a successful and beautiful birth, it still took me some time to process it. I Think it’s normal to need to put some distance between you and an even so life altering in oder to see it clearly. I can say now, 3.5 months later, that it was a wholly positive birth experience and I am overjoyed that I was able to successfully birth at home. I would do it again in a heartbeat (although I don’t plan on it!!) and I can’t think of anything that I would change. I am so grateful that this happened for us, especially knowing that not everyone is this lucky. A true blessing of an uneventful birth.

Home births, when safe, are such a gift to the whole family. After the birth I was able to enjoy my baby without him being whisked away for test or baths. My husband and son and friend were able to be by my side to witness the miracle. I was able to labour in comfort, privacy, and with dignity and autonomy, able to make decisions that fit my needs. I was able to shower in my own bathroom, sleep in my own bed, and maintain my chosen level of privacy. I ate my own chosen foods, Wear my comfiest PJs. I was in complete control of the environment. and best of all, I was able to snuggle with my baby and toddler to my hearts content, with no one to interrupt me.

The following week was much of the same. Lounging at home in comfort with intermittent home-visits from the midwives to check on our progress. But one week in, our little paradise got turned upside down and we headed off to CHEO once again. But that is a story for part 2.

Special thanks to Andrea for photographing and witnessing the birth of our baby boy. You did a beautiful job and i’m so glad I got to share the experience with you! xo

[thehonestmommy]

What I wish people told me about postpartum life

There is a TON of advise and guidance on what to expect when you are pregnant. Theres even more about how to handle every little cough, hiccup, and milestone that your baby goes through. But theres something in between thats severly lacking in conversation and warning. Postpartum life. Im not talking about how tired you will be or how your house will turn into a toy store. I mean the little things that will likely take you by surprise unless a well meaning friend shares it with you. Because for some reason, we as a society dont talk about the post partum mom, except for breasfeeding, baby weight, and stretch marks. But let me tell you, there is a whole lot more than that.

Well, as the over-sharer that I am, allow me to prepare you for the things that never get spoken about, and might surprise you about life after pregnancy. Here are some of the things I had to learn on my own, and that I wish someone told me about so I was more prepared.

WARNING: I’m gonna get personal and gross right from the get-go. Buckle up.

You will sweat…profusely

Seriously. My first night after giving birth, I was so sweaty. But I passed it off as just part of recovery. I mean, I did just spend 3 days pushing a human out of my body, I’m understandably sweaty. But then the next night, same thing. And the following night, too. For weeks and weeks it continued. I would wake up at night to feed my baby and be soaked, almost like I had the flu! I felt disgusting, and was constantly changing clothes. But the more I questioned other moms (online and in mom groups) the more I realized we all were experiencing this to some degree….we just wen’t talking about it. I mean, sure. It’s a bit embarrassing, especially if you aren’t a person who sweats very much under normal circumstances. But it woulda saved us all a lot of embarrassment if it was something we were told was par for the course! No need to worry, soggy momma. You are normal.

You will smell

This goes hand in hand with being sweaty. But it’s so much more than that. I was constantly getting whiffs of my own body odour…and boy was it bad. And it wasn’t the typical B.O. smell I’d get if I’d done some cardio and wasn’t able to shower straight away. This was a whole other beast. I kept trying to compensate for smelling horrible by saying it out loud and apologizing. But my mom and my husband kept reassuring me that they couldn’t smell a thing. But how couldn’t they?! I was so rank. Im telling you, it was so bad that I would shower, and sniff my pitts after soaping up while SILL IN THE SHOWER and I could still smell myself. Seriously. No amount of soap or scrubbing was making this go away.

But heres the thing. No one around me could smell it (or at least they wouldn’t tell me so) except my baby. You see, this is a special function of a breastfeeding mom. You take on a unique signature scent that helps your young baby identify you. And as they grow and their senses develop, the stench (or strength of it) fades away.

If i had known this before it happened, maybe I wouldn’t have cried in the shower after scrubbing my armpits raw.

Postpartum insomnia is a thing

We all know that new parents have a hard time sleeping. But I always thought it was because

A) The baby keeps you awake with its very loud singing, practicing for auditions on The Voice, B) The baby being asleep makes you freak out that its too still to be breathing , or C) You cant stop watching this adorable little chubby mini-me peacefully sleeping

So, it really surprised me when my baby started sleeping through the night, but I did not. I didn’t feel anxious. I wasn’t plagued of thoughts about my baby’s safety. And even though I loved watching him sleep, I was cool with rolling over and enjoying my much needed rest. But, no matter how tired I was, the sleep wouldn’t come. I would lay awake, utterly exhausted. I would just nodd off and the baby would wake. Every 5 nights or so, I would sleep. Yes, you read that right. I would only sleep after about 4 full sleepless nights. Those 4 to 5 days were torturous cat naps only. After about a month of this, I went to my Dr because I thought something was seriously wrong. She knowingly chuckled when I explained what was going on. “Postpartum insomnia” she said. Apparently, it’s a hormone thing. Not every woman experiences it, but it’s not uncommon. “it will go away when you are done breastfeeding, most likely.” Oh. My. God. Are you kidding me? My kid is finally sleeping for more than 30 minutes at a time, and now I cant, and wont, until i’m done breastfeeding? (I plan to breastfeed for at least a year) Mother nature, your jokes aren’t that funny.

Carpal tunnel syndrome

Exactly the same as postpartum insomnia, some women get carpal tunnel that wont go away till breastfeeding is over. Its not unusual for women to get it while they are pregnant, but even if you didn’t have it then, you could still get it once your baby has left the flesh-building. According to my doc, hormones mixed with weight-bearing hand positions (breastfeeding again, yay!) is the perfect recipe for some inflammation of the nerves in your forearms and hands. My hands didn’t hurt much during the day but at night they would drive me crazy. Think pins and needles to the nth degree. That shit is going to keep you awake #postpartuminsomnia

Breastfeeding + binge eating

breastfeeding burns a LOT of calories. You think you were eating for two while you were pregnant? Thats not nothing on breastfeeding. That baby keps getting bigger and hungrier. Get ready to smash some food.

Breastfeeding + thirst

Breastmilk is surprisingly watery. Baby drinks breast milk, your fluids deplete, the body needs more to make more milk. The process is not surprising. What might surprise you is that you get thirsty IMMEDIATELY after your baby has triggered the let-down (aka within minutes of him/her latching on) Keep a bottle of water handy for every nursing session. You are gonna need it.

Period pains

I think its fairly well established in the way we discuss postpartum that your period may not come back for a while. But what they DON’T tell you, is that you will still get similar pains fairly often. In the beginning, your uterus needs to go back to its regular size, so cramping/contractions will take place for a few weeks after giving birth to contract that uterus back to its old self. Thats right. You will still have contractions for WEEKS. Yay!

If you are breastfeeding, the cramping will happen DURING nursing. Its kinda cool, although pretty uncomfortable. You might notice the postpartum bloat go down in unison with those sessions of cramping. its different for all women, but for me, that intense cramping only lasted about 3-4 weeks. But here’s where people stop talking about it. But guess what? you will still get cramps! Pretty much once a month, I get a day of mild cramping. Its nothing like what it used to be (although my experience may be biased since I’m an endometriosis gal) but it’s still noticeable, and identifiable.

You are still ovulating

Carrying right on from getting those period cramps comes the obvious but often misunderstood fact that you are still ovulating. Many people are lead to believe that if they are breastfeeding and did not get their periods back yet, that they can not get pregnant. This is FALSE INFORMATION #fakenews So many woman end up pregnant again because they are not practicing safe sex under the assumption that no period means no ovulation. Sorry to say, your body goes right back on makin’ them eggs. Life, uh…finds a way #jurassicpark

Hormone imbalances continue (acne, sweats, cravings, mood swings)

Again, no secret to anyone that pregnant women are on a rollercoaster ride of hormones that are challenging at best, and downright unfair at worst. But whats most unfair is that you dont get to just be done with all that after your sweet little bundle arrives. Oh no. no no no. The rollercoaster gets more intense, if you can believe it.

Many people will be familiar with the term Post Partum Depression, which is common and no joke. If you suspect that you or someone you care about might be suffering from PPD, please access help. Start by talking to a doctor. There is LOTS of help available.

But, outside of PPD, it seems a disservice to me that no one explains that mood swings, food cravings, exhaustion, acne, hair loss/hair gain, sweating and the like are almost guaranteed to happen. I don’t mind speaking out about PPD and saying that I suffered, and I still do suffer from regressive episodes from time to time. But for a while, I wondered if all my other symptoms were PPD. My amazing midwife explained that those things are not indicative of PPD but a normal part of your body settling into its new role as a food truck (breastfeeding, again! argh!)

So if you are experiencing things that make you feel like a teenager again, you are not alone. It’s par for the course. But please talk to a Dr to get screened for post partum depression just to be sure.

leaking breasts

So I heard of this before. But I seriously was not prepared. I thought it was a unicorn thing that only happened to the rare woman who’s a breastmilk goddess with an oversupply. So i’m going to do you ladies a service and let you know the real deal here. Even if you think this wont happen to you, it probably might.

You don’t need to have an oversupply, your baby doesn’t need to suddenly sleep through the night. (although both of those things make it even more likely) Your breasts will spontaneously leak; maybe when your baby sleeps through the night the first time and your supply was hoping for a night feed. Maybe when your baby cries because it’s hungry and you don’t immediately get to them. Maybe when a srangers’ baby cries because it’s hungry. Maybe when you are looking at them on the baby monitor or watching them do something especially cute. Or maybe when you are having an intimate moment with your partner (YUP). MAKE PEACE WITH THIS. It will happen, and continue to happen, when you least expect it. You’r boobs now have a mind of their own.

Oh and just when you think that phase is over, it will happen again. #oops

Speedy hair and nail growth

This may be a pleasant surpriuse to some (or a major inconvenience depending on your maintenance level). Your hair and nail growth might speed up. Not sure why that one happens, but wow I feel like i cut my nails every week now. And I am getting 2x more haircuts, too.

Another common thing that happens is the texture of your hair changing. Many women go from luscious curls to straight locks or vice versa after pregnancy. Your body grew, sustained, and continues to sustain life. Those are MAJOR changes, so… Anything is possible!

Dry vaj (masquerading as injuries)

Oh yes. Im going there. If you made it this far, lets just assume you’re cool with how gross I can be at times. okay? Great. :) OKay, You are a mom. You might have pushed at baby out of your body. Or maybe you had someone surgically remove it. In both cases, your muscle structure gets significantly compromised. Under good health care, we are told to limit our activity for 6 weeks while the body heals. I dont know a single mom, c-section or vaginal delivery, who felt like their body was actually ready to get back in the game. It takes MONTHS to heal, and my midwife (did I mention shes awesome?) laid it out for me honestly. She said things are not gonna feel anywhere near normal for the better part of a year. I’m currently 8.5 months postpartum, and yo she was right. My core is weak, my diastases is still present, and I was in some serious pelvic pain for a long while.

So, on the advise of many a Dr and friend, I decided to see a pelvic floor physiotherapist in hopes that she can help guide me into a life where it doesn’t feel like I’m going to lose my uterus every time i squat down.

It was an embarassing and humbling experience. This Dr literally tests out your muscle control from within. Its like the most revealing pap you’ve ever had. But seriously, it was worth it. What i learned was even though i was expierencing pain, my muscle structure was NOT compromised. Where did the pain com from you might ask? Dryness.

Yeah I know. It’s not ladylike to talk about that. No one wants to admit its an issue either. But remember how breastfeeding affects almost every topic covered above? Well this one too. Surprise! Your body’s natural fluids are depleted in a big way when your kid drinks sometimes 200ml 6-10 times a day. (Go measure that our if you’r not familiar with it. Its a lot.) If you are not super hydrated, and extremely well nourished, your body will totally ditch its other systems to provide for your child instead. Its admirable, but dang if your not careful it really translates in so some serious discomfort.

Turns out that some topical moisturizers (coconut oil did it for me, but some people need something more substantial with estrogen in it) and maintaining my body’s hydration brought me back to 80%. Couple that with learning how to do diaphragmatic breathing and activating your transverse abdominus during kegel exercises (okay can we just not cover that? I’ve said enough gross stuff) and you’re well on your way to recovery.

The takeaway

Growing and serving up a baby does a number on your body, but it continues after the birth. It takes work, healthy choices and a lot of knowledge to stay on top of whats happening to your body once your baby is here. Breastfeeding, no matter how long you decide to do it, is a lot harder than people give credit for. It goes far beyond latch and weight peoblems, and not enough people talk about that. Be prepared for your body to continue to go through changes as your baby changes with you. Be kind to yourself, eat well, drink as much water as you can every day, and TALK TO OTHER MOMS about what the heck is going on. You’ll be surprised to know you are not alone. <3

[thehonestmommy]

My Birth Story - Part 2

…Continued from previous blog entry

The wave oxytocin that flooded my bloodstream made it difficult to realize what really was going on in the first hour after giving birth. I was hearing things being said, but they were not registering on my emotional scale in a normal way. It was as if what I was hearing was passing though my ears; I could hear it, but it had no impact on me. I was still blissful and processing the fact that I had just given birth to my beautiful baby boy, and feeling so incredibly strong and proud of what my body accomplished. I felt surprisingly well; happy, serene, and thankful. For that reason, my recollection of all that happened in the first 2 hours is blurry, and my retelling might be slightly out of order….

Shortly after being laid down with my new baby Lauchlan and having some skin-to-skin with his father and me, Our family was invited into the room. There was so much joy and awe from everyone. I remember my Mother-In-Law came to us with tears in her eyes. “Thank you! Thank you!” she said to me over and over. I smiled at everyone, only vaguely recognizing their presence in the room as my head swam in the happiness of it all.

The midwives asked for the family to give us some brief privacy, and took Lauchlan from me so I could deliver my placenta. Oh right, I’d forgotten about this. “I’m sorry to have to do this, but its time to deliver your placenta. I will need to put some pressure on your stomach to help it out, okay?” Asked my secondary midwife “Okay” I said hesitantly. “well… it wont be pleasant” she said. And sure enough, it was (very surprisingly) one of the worst parts of my labour. The unexpected pain that shot through my body as she gently massaged my abdomen had me shout out in agony. I was not at all prepared… No one had ever mentioned to me that the placenta delivery would be just as bad, and maybe even worse, than delivering the baby. But thankfully, it was over in a matter of minutes.

My midwife took the placenta away, but said “do you mind if I take a picture of it?” Amused, I said “Sure“ and she explained to me that my placenta was very unique, and she had “read about it before, but never saw one in real life.” This fact would be something that shook us to the core, but not still much later.

learning about lauchlan

My baby boy was brought over to the scale across the room, and my family filed back in and crowded around him and the midwives. His Apgar test was being conducted while I was being served my first postpartum meal. I had expected to feel a sense of urgency when they took him from me to do his tests, but since it was all in the same room I felt fairly comfortable. And although my view of him was obstructed by my family, I was able to hear them coo and awww at every finding which put me at ease, so I sat with a smile and enjoyed my meal.

One of the midwives suddenly switched her tone of voice from gentle and positive to guarded. “Oh,” she said. “Well, hmmm” followed by a hesitation. I heard her speak the words, but they didn’t register on my emotional scale the way they should have.

“Lauchlan has an imperforate anus. It’s okay, but lets call CHEO (Childrens Hospital of Eastern Ontario) now”

The energy in the room dissolved from pure joy and excitement to a nervous questioning from everyone. My family shuffled around. I was unphased, still enjoying my hormone high, and knowing that families naturally worry and things were probably fine. The phone call made to CHEO was quick, and the midwife ushered my family out. She sat beside me on the bed and put her sweet calming tone back into her voice. “Lauchlan has an imperforate anus. It means that his bum was not fully formed, and it looks like theres no hole. That means he might not be able to poop, and getting rid of meconium is very important. CHEO wants to see him right away so we are going to get him dressed right now and take him immediately.”

I heard what she said. My honest response was a calm and cheerful “okay!”

In that moment I felt like it was mostly a precaution, and we were lucky to be so close to CHEO, a mere 3 minutes away. I was confident that whatever imperforate anus was, he was getting amazing care right away. My joyful state protected me from realizing what was actually happening; they were rushing my baby into the emergency at the children’s hospital for a birth defect that could have major implications.

I remember looking for my husband, and finding him across the room dressing our son with a very different energy than his typical relaxed demeanour. I felt like I was in a haze; I knew something was worth worrying about, but it just wasn’t coming to me. Within minutes he was leaving. He kissed me goodbye and he left with baby Lauchlan in his carseat. I realized that I didn’t have a moment to hold my baby boy since they started his APGAR test, but still, my emotions betrayed me. I remained in the happy bubble as everyone around me began to panic.

I spent the following hour (maybe longer) getting cleaned up. My primary midwife stitched my 2nd degree tear (which I didn’t even know I had until she said it was time to address it) and then my Doula gave me some Advil, walked me to the bathroom and held me for balance while I peed (which i was scared to do, but it was fine!), taught me to use the peri bottle and assisted me in the shower. They were so caring and positive with me that I nearly forgot that something important was happening with my son.

Once I was showered and dressed, my secondary midwife escorted me to CHEO. During our short drive, she explained to me “You might be shocked when you see Lauchlan. He will likely be undressed in an incubator, under bright lights with tubes in his nose and wires attached to him. Right now its only a precaution. But I want you to be ready for what you will see. It can be very upsetting, but its normal for any new baby who comes into the hospital.” I understood what she was saying, and for the first time I felt something other than joy. It was a small wave of fear.

Reality is a hard brick wall

When I arrived at the hospital, I was put in a wheelchair and brought into the emergency department. It was the middle of the night, roughly 2am and the lights in the room were dim. At the far end of the room there was a single bright light and an incubator with my baby boy in it. I stared at the scene as they pushed me towards him, and it was as if reality began to take hold with every inch that I got closer. There he was, undressed under the lamp with tubes and wires, exactly as my midwife said he would be, and still I was not prepared. I took one big shaking breath and began to sob.

Everything after seeing him in that moment became a blur of tears, hugs, and emotional pitfalls that took my breath away. Im unsure of the correct order of events in the 24 hours that followed, but I remember key things. I was not able to hold him, which devastated me. The nurses brought him a stuffed animal, which made me so happy that they cared for him more than just as a patient, but as a child. My husband couldn’t look me in the eye, but when I saw his face, his eyes were red from crying. I never saw him like that before and it threw me into tears again. I stood from my wheelchair so I could get close to my boy and touch him, but it made me feel faint. I knew I was not strong enough for him. I cried that I should be holding him, giving him comfort, and learning to breastfeed. But I was ordered to go home.

I don’t recall the drive home or going to bed that night, but I know I was instructed to do so for my recovery. It was all a blur. My husband stayed with Lauchlan so he was not alone.

When I went back to the hospital, I was greeted with news that Lauchlan not only was moved to a private room in the NICU, but he passed a small amount of meconium which meant there was at least a small opening near the anus. I practically celebrated! I felt like we were out of the woods but I came to realize laster that it wasn’t the case. I was finally able to hold him, and I was flooded again with the oxytocin that protected me after delivering my boy. My husband and I spent time passing him back and forth and cooing and snuggling our precious child as if nothing were the matter. I was unable to get him to latch to my breast (even with the help of a nurse*) so I pumped for him while my mom took a turn snuggling him.

Some time later, the surgical team came to Lauchlans bedside to deliver us the news about his condition. We learned that imperforate anus is a non-genetic birth defect that occurs in 1 of 5000 babies. It has varying levels of severity from minor to complex, and it often affect other systems of the body (the closed anus is only the visual indicator of potentially more issues) including the bladder, kidneys, esophagus, heart, lungs, spine and limbs. They didn’t yet know how severe his condition was, but they were planning a laundry list of investigative testing. In the meantime, we needed to keep the small anal opening (which was located just beneath his scrotum) open, which meant he needed to be dilated; a process by which we inserted metal dowels into his anus, to stretch the hole open as much as possible. It was a procedure we had to do 2-3 times a day, and something that the parents—not the surgical staff—had to do (since we had to continue to do it when we took him home). Its a horrifying thing for parents to do. Poor Lauchlan would scream and wail each time. I cried every time I did it, feeling horrible about putting my new born baby through pain on purpose. But this was our new reality.

Moving on up

The next day, Lauchlan was moved from the NICU to the surgical patient floor. He was watched round the clock by room-in nurses as my husband and I sleepily switched shifts. He would stay with him while I got a few hours rest and pumped for him at home, then I would take my milk to him, and spend time with him while my husband went home for some sleep. The days blur together, punctuated by failed nursing attempts, diagnostic tests, and conversations with hospital staff about results. We learned over the course of a few days that many potential IA related issues were ruled out, but surgery was imminent.

The surgical plan was to make an incision in his bottom and complete a plastic surgery of his rectum and anus. They would make an incision in his belly at his upper intestines, and create a stoma, where he would wear a colostomy bag until his bum was healed, and then it could be reversed. It sounded simple enough but there were many risks and the prognosis after the surgery is varying. The surgical team did their best to explain what could happen for him in his future; if everything goes extremely well, he may have full bowel control like any other child/adult but will likely need the assistance of some laxatives. On the other hand, we need to know that he may never have proper bowel function or control as a child or even into adulthood.

Learning this shattered me. I cried for days on end, unable to see how we could provide our child with any sense of normalcy. The idea that he would be starting school in diapers destroyed my vision of a EC Diaper Free baby. Thoughts of misunderstanding parents, child bullies, and affected romantic relationships flooded my mind every hour of every day as I tried desperately to be thankful for him even being alive, and hopefully dealing with a low severity level of a terrifyingly persistent condition. In some ways, I resented that the most joyus time of my life was being weighed down by worry and fear. I just wanted to be in the moment, enjoying my son and my new family without being haunted by these thoughts.

The universe grants Perspective

Perspective came swiftly, when we then learned about my ‘strange’ placenta. While spending time in the hospital, my husband began to do some research on what my midwife evenrually told us was a bilobed placenta and a velamentous cord insertion. Essentially, my placenta was not only divided in two, but the blood vessels that travel through the umbilical cord were exposed and abnormally inserted into the placenta. Both of these conditions are dangerous and could have resulted in stillbirth, haemorrhaging, and maternal death. Bilobed placenta occurs in 2% of pregnancies, while the velamentous cord insertion happens in just 1% of all pregnancies. Had either of these conditions been seen on an ultrasound (they were missed by the techs) my midwife would have had me closely monitored, possibly on bedrest, and had a scheduled c-section at 36 weeks to avoid complications that could lead to death. Instead, I was swimming, shopping, dancing and carrying on as if I was having a perfect pregnancy, right up until my water broke. I had absolutely no idea how close i was to losing everything.

There are no words to explain the mental leaps and disbelief that happens when you realize that, not only was your son born with a rare birth defect requiring immediate surgery, but also your pregnancy suffered two unnoticed complications that could have killed us both. It was incredibly grounding. Somehow we beat so many odds, and we were both here. Both happy and thriving.

Mu husband and I were in complete shock at this finding. How on earth did we dodge the odds? And suddenly, our boy felt like a true miracle. Not just in the way that all babies are miracles…. I mean a real one. He was meant to be here, and so was I with him. My resentment turned to pure awe and gratitude. No matter where his unique path would go, we were damn lucky to walk it with him.

Finally, we were able to take Lauchlan home. It was for a short 3 days before his surgery, but they were paradise. Being in our little nest with our new baby was everything i’d dreamed it could be. Sadly it was all too short as he had to return to the hospital for his surgery.

Surgery at CHEO

Even though I knew he was in the best of hands, my whole physical and spiritual being vibrated with nervous energy on the day of his surgery. I had nothing to fear, but fear I did. Would he remember any of this? Would he recover? What if there was a complication with the anesthetic? What if they found something that their previous tests didn’t show? What if they made a mistake and ruined any chances he had at bowel control? I could not stop running this track in my mind, no matter how hard I tried and how much I knew it was useless.

I fought tears the entire time we waited for his surgery. 3 hours later, the surgeon came to see us to tell us how it went. The surgery went well, but he did have something he had to tell us. I didnt even have time to brace myself.

“Unfortunately his urethra was nicked as we attempted to cut the wall that divided the urethra from his bowel. We had to get urology in to repair it. He will have to use a catheter to urinate.”

if it wasn’t for my husbands arms, I would have fell to the floor. Why were these things happening to my baby? Why did he have to endure such a start? I was angry. Not at the surgeon, but just at life. I was frustrated for my baby. Frustrated for us as new parents. Frustrated that I was being petty. I knew to be more thankful than this, but I just wanted to take my baby home.

Seeing him later in the recovery room was the most broken hearted I’ve ever been in my life. He was so sedated and groggy. I could see fear in his eyes. It’s not fair to see a baby, just a week old in such a state. I couldn’t hold him. I couldn’t feed him. I could give him no comfort. So I just sat at his bed and cried.

A family in Recovery

From that day, Lauchlan progressed well. My husband and I continued the dilations, now in his newly formed anus. We also learned how to empty and replace his colostomy bag and his catheter bag. It all felt nearly impossible on such a tiny baby, but we got more adept every day. We felt like nurses in our own right. And after 4 days of monitoring in the hospital, we were sent home.

I expected being sent home would be difficult. Many parents talk of the feeling of not knowing what they are doing, and feeling all to unprepared to be left in charge of a child. In a way, all that we’d gone through in those first few weeks seemed to prepare us. We were just so glad to be home. There were moments that were scary and challenging to be sure. We worried about the correct way to hold him with the bags and tubes. We were paranoid about changing his colostomy bag. But they all seemed scarier than they actually were. We were good at this. And we relied well on one another to make it through these tough times.

After two weeks we returned to the hospital to have his catheter removed. And since then, we’ve just been learning and working with our baby as he grows. We’ve been back to the hospital for follow ups and Lauchlan is doing very well. We wait patiently to hear about when his reversal surgery will happen, and in the meantime we absorb every precious moment with our miracle baby.

As we learn more about his condition, and experience the next surgery I will continue to share what this journey looks and feels like in this blog. Please subscribe if you’d like to follow Lauchalns progress.

*Nurses helped me try to breastfeed, since CHEO, even though its a childrens’ hospital, does not have lactation consultants. I learned later that they also do not have any private areas for breastfeeding.

[thehonestmommy]

5 reasons I am 100% comfortable with people touching my bump

Yes, you may touch my bump. I know, I know. I should be horrified. But I’m 100% okay with people touching my belly... even strangers. This is a highly polarizing topic among expectant moms and people everywhere; Are you comfortable with people touching your belly when you are pregnant? 

Many months before my husband and I became pregnant, anyone who who knew that we were trying to start a family would share stories all about the unavoidable horror of everyone–including strangers–wanting to touch the tummies of pregnant women. These stories were told with much disgust and warning that we should prepare for this inevitability of invasion of space, and that it's completely unavoidable and 100% guaranteed to happen.

To be honest, I really wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I would casually laugh about how absurd it would be for a stranger to openly touch me, but deep down i was a bit conflicted. Was it something sweet that I would enjoy, or something invasive and offensive? I more or less decided it was something I’d figure out when my time came. God knows hormones during pregnancy will give me some hearty opinions on pretty much everything, and this likely wont be an exception! 

Well, now that my time is here, and I’ve had a few interactions with friends, family, and near strangers, I can firmly say that I am 100% comfortable with people touching my belly. Heres why. 

5 reasons I'm 100% comfortable with people touching my bump

It's Non-sexual This is one of the only times in my life that I will receive a compassionate physical touch that is not sexualized and is purely positive. Thats a rarity, especially in the realm of strangers.

The human connection Having your bump touched creates a true connection with people, especially when its a stranger. We should appreciate the immediate connection people are having with us when they want to approach us and touch our bumps and engage in conversation. We so rarely experience physical touch outside of the sexual or grief realm, that this can really be a gift if you look at it from this perspective. Positive physical touch releases oxytocin and enhances bonds between people, and having a baby bump is a really wonderful invitation or reason for someone to touch you with purest intentions.

Spreading joy I’ve always loved and lived by the saying “happiness shared is happiness doubled” and Pregnancy is a magical, beautiful, and powerful thing. But its also a very singular thing thats happening almost exclusively to me and my body. Allowing others to touch my belly is a way of sharing the happiness and the awe inspiring process of whats happening within me now. It makes me glow every time someone places a hand on the baby bump, and so far, it gives a smile to others, too. I’m more than willing to invite people into the experience ever so briefly to double that happiness! Its so amusing for us both!

Positive vibes only The transfer of energy (if you believe in that sort of thing) is powerful. Can you imagine a hand reaching out to touch your bump and that person scowling or saying something really hurtful? For most of us, that sort of interaction doesn’t happen. A touch of the belly is typically accompanied by words of kindness, soft facial expressions, positive affirmations, compliments, hopeful remarks for the future and the baby, and a general feeling of positivity. This can be VERY impactful on your well being (and the well being of your baby!) if you let it! Especially during a time when remaining positive, optimistic and grateful is so important to the whole experience.

It's not that private My bump feels in some ways apart from me. Okay so that probably sounds a bit strange, but hear me out. If I wasn't pregnant, and people touched my stomach (even with all the kindness and positive vibes mentioned above) It would feel weird. my mind would fill with concerns on body image and how flat/flabby my tummy feels. Am I feeling bloated that day? Maybe I just ate and I'm literally digesting food. Perhaps my cramps are causing me pain that day. Or depending on where they place their hand, it might feel sexual, or be reminded of a negative encounter from my past. For all those reasons, I would not be comfortable with someone touching my stomach. Those thoughts and reactions are deeply personal and private, and no one knows for sure whats going on with me on that level. Pregnancy, however, is a visually obvious and common human experience, that most of us have a basic understanding of whats going on. Couple that with no longer being concerned about my belly flab (cause there is none now that Im sporting a watermelon!), having a renewed sense of beauty and vitality, and literally having a new human being hanging out in my torso sort of makes it feel like that space is not just my own anymore. Its significantly less personal and private. So a hand to my bump doesn't not feel nearly as invasive as a hand to my stomach. They are two different things.

So yes, please, by all means... if you want to...touch my bump! I'll greet you with a smile and join in the joy of this special moment. 

 Changing your mind

Not all pregnant folks will share my views, and thats completely understandable. We are all entitled to our individual opinions and to have full agency over our bodies. However, If you are a mom-to-be who's having trouble with people touching your bump, and you’d like to make peace with it and adjust your perspective rather than struggle when people attempt to touch you, heres a few things to keep in mind that may help you adjust: 

People are not doing it to freak you out. They have the best intentions. They just want to connect, and share in the happy moment. Those connections we make, no matter how fleeting, simply do not happen when you’re not pregnant, so we should honour those interactions.

The time in which this will happen to you is incredibly short. Most women are not 'showing' until about the 4th month, which means you're only susceptible to touches from that point on (roughly 5 months).

Once your baby comes, no one will even look at you. All attention goes to your beautiful bundle of joy, so absorb the love and positive vibes for yourself while you can!

After you deliver your baby, you might be house-bound for quite some time, and deprived of social interactions. You might long for the days when strangers spoke to you or friends gushed about your glow, all while handing over some loving body contact. You likely wont have that again unless you decide to have another baby, so observe it now with love and remember that feeling.

So how do you feel about having body contact on your bump?  Are you on board or totally freaked out?  Tell me how you feel in the comments. 

[thehonestmommy]

The Top 10 Reasons I Love Being Pregnant

Being pregnant is not all fun and games. We are often extremely ill, unbelievably exhausted, bloated, gassy, swollen, sweaty, hungry and grumpy. And thats not even the gross stuff (if you don’t know already, i’m not telling you). But there are some seriously kick-ass things about being pregnant, too.   Here are some of my top 10 reasons why pregnancy has been super awesome for me so far, and things for all pregnant women to rejoice about! 

1. Feeling extra curvaceous 

Nothing feels more feminine and sexy to me than being curvy, and now at 5 months, i’m nothing but round shapes, and soft jiggles and I am freakin’ owning it. My husband doesn’t mind either! Bingpot. 

2. Healthy eating = healthy momma

I had a bad habit of over indulging in bad food basically all the time. Now that I’m pregnant and eating for 1.5 (my Doc says ‘you are not eating for two!’) what I eat is paramount. Since being more strict about what I eat, I notice that I am feeling much better. Plus my sugar cravings are at an all time low (good news for my upcoming gestational diabetes test). Cant say the same for salty stuff though. Oh hai blood pressure spikes and incessant thirst!

3. Sleeping whenever I want 

Okay I admit it. Even though I got my energy back in the 2nd trimester (don’t even get me started on the exhaustion of the first trimester!) I still have a rubber arm for taking naps. If the opportunity is there,  you better believe I’m layin’ down. So far, no one has called me out on that. In fact, most people are pretty forgiving for my needing a rest. So, uhh... i’ll BRB I gotta take a nap. 

4. Built in reason to go home or stay home

Much in the same vein as taking naps, I also love the built-in reason to either leave events early, or not go at all. Out drinking with friends? 9pm rolls around and I’m gonna remind you that I’m pregnant and gotta go home. Formal function that I’m not feeling into? Yeah sorry about that...i’m just not feeling well. Don’t hate the player, hate the game. 

Bonus: this is also a great ‘out’ for your partner, too. My husband is now able to say ‘ahhh I better get home to the baby Mamma....’ 

5. Being more comfortable with gaining a few pounds

I never had unbearable struggles with my weight, but its still something I need to wrangle on a daily basis. It takes work. But now, its completely acceptable (and even encouraged!) for me to gain some extra pounds. Its really liberating to feel like I not only CAN have those extra calories, but its a damn good idea! Bring on the nachos!! 

Bonus: My body has a few new back rolls and a bigger muffin top and it straight up doesn’t matter. I’m pregnant and beautiful, bitches. Deal with it.

6. The tenderness from my husband and family 

My family and my husband are nothing short of amazing lights in my life. But now that we are expecting, they are even more attentive, compassionate, caring and protective. Theres more hugs, more teary moments, more hopeful and loving conversations, and more emotional support (and way more belly touching than any man would experience in his lifetime. I just one-up’d ya, dudes). There really is a feeling of community that comes about when you’re going to become a mom, even from the people who were already a part of your inner circle. It all gets augmented. 

Bonus/drawback: Loved ones, and sometimes strangers, will attempt to protect you like your a delicate flower, because for some reason, the amazing feat of growing a damn human makes me incapable of tasks like rolling your own damn suitcase through the airport, or carrying groceries to the car (even when i park so close...see below). This drives me nuts. I’m a freaking powerhouse right now, people! I can handle it.  But I have to admit that my husband not allowing me to help him paint (even with the safe stuff), my mom waiting on me hand-and-foot when I visit her, and complete strangers offering me help has been really touching. Thanks, y’all. You sure do know how to make a pregger feel special. 

7. Baby Kicks 

It’s alive....ALIVE!!  Seriously though, I was worried this would freak me out. I’m at 22 weeks now and i’m in that sweet zone where the baby’s not strong enough to bruise my ribs, but shows me in interpretive dance that s/he really loves bacon. It’s adorable, and makes me super excited to meet our little baconator. 

8. Nesting

I’ve always loved buying new things for the house, assembling furniture (want me to help you build your IKEA furniture?) and decorating. Now, I have a WAY less selfish reason than “because I want to” for filling the house with new important items and adding renovation chores (see above: painting) to my husbands ‘Honey-do’ list. 

9. Pregnancy parking spots. 

Yeah those are just awesome. Only available for a limited time!! Get em while they’re hot!

10. The constant reminder that I am a Goddess who sustains life

Every time I look in the mirror, accidentally lean my belly on the counter when reaching for a treat, or catch a stranger steal a glance at my bump, I’m reminded that my body has changed so dramatically in the last 5 months and is actively creating and sustaining a human being. I am carrying LIFE. I am two people. I have a divine power to bring forth a child into the world, and that blows my mind over and over. I have never felt so powerful, so important, so gifted and so much self love in my entire life. Every minute of this miracle is a gift.  

[thehonestmommy]

Let me introduce myself...

I’m Sarah. And I’m about to become a first time mom (FTM).

I wanted to tell you a bit about my experience leading up to now, and continue to share what its like to go through this major life change in the most honest way possible.  

We don’t all get to this point of being a first time mom through the same route. For some of us, its got some weird detours. It’s my hope that the telling of my story will help others feel just a bit more normal about their path. 

Today i’m writing this from week 19 of my pregnancy and i’m glowing (okay its 60% sweat) and proudly showing my bump to the world. I’ve never felt this well in my life, and i’m crazy happy. You might look at me now, and think i’m one of those women who’s been yearning for this her whole life. 

With how I feel now, It’s easy enough for me to say that I’ve always wanted to have kids, but I wouldn’t be telling the full truth.  So, let me be honest. 

A baby-crazy teenager

I spent most of my adolescent years fantasizing about having a great job as an artist, and being married and raising a family in Cape Breton, Nova Scotia (my home town). Of course, as I got older those things shifted and the details changed, but the idea of having a family never faded from my fantasy. Even as a young adult of just 16 year old, I wanted to begin having children. In fact, much to the surprise and fear of my friends and boyfriends of that time, I wanted very specifically to be a young mom.

You see, I am the baby of a 3-child family. My parents were not old when they had me, but life circumstances sometimes kept them from being particularly physically active with me. They both worked a lot and had their own financial and emotional challenges (which I appreciate more and more as I get older). My parents gave so much of their life to us, but still, there were times in my up-bringing where I wish my parents could have joined me in some of my experiences. I think back to being in Florida at Universal Studios when I was 14 years old. My original choice of park to visit on our vacation was Bush Gardens with all the exciting rollercoasters, but my parents suggested it would be a waste of our time and money since they weren’t planning on join me on any of the rides (and wouldn’t allow me to go alone).  They weren’t completely opposed to joining me all the time though. They both went on some of the tame rides with me at Universal so we still had a fun time at the park. It took some convincing, but my father joined me on one of the rollercoasters. I was thrilled and at the same time sad that it was the only coaster I got to ride in the park. It wasn’t till later in my life that I realized going on those roller coasters was hard on my dads body due to work injuries, and that my mother was not a thrill-seeker (like me). And I couldn’t help but wonder… if they had been younger, would things be different? 

And so, during my life as a young adult, I realized that I desperately wanted to have a baby as young as was acceptable, so I could be a parent who was active and able to keep up with an energetic child. Having a baby was always top of mind. I was an anomaly to my friends, but I was honest with myself. This is what I wanted. Of course, I was not in a relationship or life situation that was conducive to having children, so I focused on my schooling and getting myself into a career that could help me get to my family goals.

In college I started dating a guy (now my husband) who I thought from day one was an ultimate catch and serious family-making material. Just when I thought the fantasies about having a baby would click into overdrive, they started to fade. 

How it all changed

I was happily in love and enjoying every spare moment we had together. We spent a season away from home having some fun experiencing and learning about ourselves and each other, and we continued to be caught up in our lives, and slowly lost touch with the desire for creating a family. That feeling was being replaced with the intoxication of independence and the illusion of youth. 

… and then we took a big hit. After we had moved back to our home province, my boyfriend was was facing unemployment (a familiar story for many people in our area), and was offered a job about 20 hours away. It took the wind out of our sails. Life just got real.

This was a very challenging time for us both, It’s still hard to even conjure up the memories now. For two years, we did the ‘long distance relationship’ dance of lingering late night phone calls and feeling so in love, but utterly alone.  Being apart is difficult for any young couple. But for us, there was a strong divide. He knew he was unable to work in our home town (or even our home province) and being away was his only option to hold employment... and I was stubbornly in love with living a small and simple life on our island, and refused to leave that lifestyle behind. We were both holding each other back. , but there was a strong breaking point for us both. We couldn't continue to do this to one another... so he gave me an ultimatum; Either move away to be with him, or lose him for good. 

I decided that moving away from home was best for us both in terms of our career and adventure so I packed up my life and headed to the big city. And just like that, the wind was back in our sails, and we were living a dream life. We had an apartment in a high-rise down town, found new jobs in our careers, and made new friends. I worked as a designer for a music production company and spent many nights at music venues enjoying the night-life. We went to concerts together, travelled, partied, ate at new restaurants, got involved in the arts scene and gained a full on lust for life. We were young, living alone together away from family in a big city without a care in the world. We were high on life!

In looking back at that time, I can see now that  I was completely disengaged with the idea of having children. I was enjoying being an independent adult, in love and Working on my career. My life was blossoming, and it was thrilling! At the same time as I was enjoying my life, I was also faced very often with the horror of the world around me. Our politics, our environment, and the projection of our future. The news bombarded us daily with stories of war, suicide, disease, famine, violence, social oppression and hatred. All these things had me saying many times in an off the cuff manner that ‘I don’t want to bring a child into a world like this.’ And so, I identified as a woman who chose not to bare children. That was my right, and my choice.

During that time that I would now identify as my non-maternal time, there were people who came into my life, who before knowing me terribly well, noted that despite my views of the world around me, I was still a positive person. I’d been described as a sunny, glass-half-full person. These people were new to me (having moved to a new city) and their perspective of my personality was intriguing. Their comments prompted me to turn inward and see it in myself. It took some time to align my thoughts with my behaviours. For one, it didn’t align very well with how I thought the world was in shambles. And for another, these people didn’t know me as well as say, my best friends or my family. But still, their words and opinions had an impact on me. I did very often (and still do) tend to look on the brighter side of things, and was pretty damn good at finding a silver lining and keeping my head above water when my world was drowning.

Over time, that started to become a strong part of my identity and how I viewed myself. I AM the person who will always find happiness in every dark place. I am the type who can enjoy the little things in daily life. I am powerfully optimistic, and I bring that out in others. Armed with this knowledge, my self esteem began to grow.  The more I leaned into that positive identity shift, the closer I became to wanting to be a parent again. It grew very slowly and very subtly; I felt more confident in myself, and I started being more interested in the intricacies of parenthood and fantasized about how I would raise a compassionate, positive and happy child. I grew fond of picturing how my husband and I would tackle the challenges of raising a kid, and how our lives would go from exciting nights on the town, to exciting days experiencing the world through the eyes of a child.  I caught myself feeling proud of the parents in my life, and even the strangers as they integrated a child into their lifestyles with ease. And most notably, I caught myself longingly gazing at children, babies, and pregnant moms with a soft smile on my face.  

Tick tock goes the clock

It was coming back...that tick-tick-tick of my internal clock. And right in time with it, my husbands expressions of how he wishes to have a bigger life with more meaning, and his unmistakable joy when being around his nieces and nephews. It was like a warm glow of a sunrise finally dawning on us. We were ready to take the step together to become parents. To be a family. 

But (there’s always a but!) like the warn out story of so many before us, mother nature wouldn't let it happen that easy.  Despite being ready, our bodies were not. And like a striking blow to the heart, I was diagnosed with endometriosis; a reproductive condition (disease) that makes getting pregnant a challenge for many, and an impossibility for some.  

My diagnosis meant that, depending on the severity of my condition, I may struggle for a long time to have children, and realistically I may not be able to conceive at all.  Fortunately, many women successfully conceive and there are treatment options that could help increase my chances. 

I began a 3 year treatment to help set up a ‘hospitable’ environment for my body to carry a baby. During that time, I could not get pregnant. While that was a difficult reality to face and a long time to wait, it was the most logical step forward on our path to parenthood. 

3 years passed, and finally, we were cleared for trying to conceive. And yet, mother nature still had more to say. It took us 2 more years of trying, waiting, disappointment and tears before our doctor finally recognized that it wasn't working, and we weren’t getting any younger. At this point I was 32 years old (and my husband 34) and had been trying to have a baby for 5 years (including treatment time). It was time for intervention with a fertility specialist. 

We were both saddened by needing the intervention, but ultimately relieved that we were being escalated to the next step and hopefully much closer to success. After a short waiting period, we had our first appointment with our fertility specialist. It was a long appointment of many questions, explanations, and date planning. We were moving forward with appointments immediately, beginning with blood work for us both, and some mildly invasive tests for me. 

Of course, my tests were tightly scheduled during specific times in my menstrual cycle so that they could accurately look at egg production, the shape and position of my reproductive organs, and a variety of other factors. All my appointments were laid out; on day 4 of your cycle, procedure A. On day 10 of your cycle, procedure B Etc, etc. I was incredibly nervous about the outcomes of the procedures. What if it wasn't the Endometriosis that was the problem? What if it was something much worse, or what if all this time, I was completely infertile? I was spiralling down with worries of letting my husband down; the man who so badly wanted to have kids. I didn’t want to be the reason he would never have a son or daughter. I was straight up scared. 

The waiting game

During the anticipation of my first procedure, I was counting down days in fear, waiting impatiently for my cycle to begin. Waiting, worried and anxious. And waiting. And waiting. and more waiting? 

Wait...what day is it? I’m three days late. Now four. And my cute but very independent and non-cuddly dog is following me around like my shadow and cuddling with me constantly. This is weird... I cant be... can I? 

I bought a test. It was positive. 

OH MY GOD. How did this happen?! We got pregnant while waiting for my cycle to begin for fertility testing! Right when we were least expecting it, mother nature stepped up and said “Fine. If you’re really this serious, here ya go”

WE DID IT! 

And so here we are, joyously pregnant after 5 years of trying, and managing to pull off a natural conception with no surgical intervention when all the odds were stacked against us. I’m not the young mom that I’d hoped I would be, but I can say with complete confidence that I’m much more prepared and emotionally stable to bring a child into the world. It was a blessing in disguise that we were met with roadblocks and forced to wait. We are amazed that it happened to us this way, and love that we have such an interesting story so far. 

I for one, am super excited to see how this story continues to unfold! 

Stay tuned!